


Rules Are Meant To Be Broken

by HookedonCS



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Motorcycles, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 08:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4130926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HookedonCS/pseuds/HookedonCS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two motorcycle gangs who are at odd with each other. Maybe it's a territory thing. But what happens when two of those members, from opposite sides, meet and fall for each other? Can it bridge the gap between both groups, or tear them even farther apart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rules Are Meant To Be Broken

Did the weekend always have to begin like this? That damned awful music was blaring from the speakers, sounding as if it was right over Octavia’s head. Music? She guessed it could pass as such… There were too many bodies crammed in the small house. Far more than just the members of the crew. Which was why the stale odor of varying types of smoke was even greater than usual.

Octavia sifted her fingers through her hair as she moved towards an exit- any exit would do. Her booted steps were hard and firm, her stride long. It was all in hopes of getting out of the house as soon as possible.

She wasn’t opposed to big gatherings. She even understood that everyone was in celebration mode. Still… She knew how to have fun, too. It was just that… at this time, on this night- her eyes SCANNED the whole room- she was more than ready to have some quiet time. And solitude would come best with the wind hitting her in the face and whipping her hair over her shoulders as she rode hard and fast. That thought alone made her feel just a little bit more at ease.

“Octavia!” Her name blasted in her ear. (How was that even possible at this noise level?)

Wide fingers closed down hard on her shoulders, putting her to a stop immediately.

“Goddammit, Bellamy, you don’t have to scream!” Octavia shouted, turning around instantly to face him.

She had a feeling that their faces matched in expression, just as the voices had. Bellamy’s eyes narrowed on hers, his mouth was a straight line as he watched her. The disapproval was apparent.

Already, Octavia knew what he was about to say. And already, she was more than over it.

“I’m leaving,” she told him, raising an eyebrow. It wasn’t meant to intimidate, not that she could ever intimidate her big brother. It was meant to convey her finality on the manner.

“What do you mean that you’re leaving?” Bellamy practically yelled at her. It wasn’t only because he wanted to be heard over the music.

“Is that…” Octavia felt the involuntary roll of her eyes. “Something hard to comprehend?”

Bellamy matched her eye roll for eye roll. And maybe he seemed to be the more fed up of the two.

“Who are you leaving with, Octavia?”

Of course. Of course he would want to know that.

Octavia took a step closer to her brother, meeting his eyes and searching for… Maybe how serious he actually was right at the moment.

She got it. She understood. Little sister and all that. When would he ever be able to understand that little sister did not equal little girl?

“I’m not going with anybody, Bellamy,” Octavia finally answered, her gaze still holding.

It wasn’t the answer he wanted, she knew.

Bellamy shuffled on his feet, agitation clear as the night’s sky. His gaze coming up to travel across the room.

“It’s not safe for you to go out, this late at night.” His eyes fell back on hers, his eyebrows pulling together at the same time.

She didn’t want to listen to his excuses. Not even when they had some validity to them.

“It was well after midnight, although Octavia wasn’t absolutely sure what time it was exactly. There had already been a smattering of issues earlier…

Territorial issues.

The gang… This was her life. It had been their life for… forever. And yet… she didn’t know if she would ever comprehend why exactly being a part of something that was so important in her life had to include danger. She would never understand why her life was surrounded by the danger and violence that was a day-to-day occurrence.

So now… Now, after a run-in with an equally as strong squad of riders from the other side of town… Now, riding out wasn’t the safest of options she had at the moment. But…

“Bellamy.” His name left her mouth as a sigh. “I’m only going for a ride.”

She saw the tilt of confusion of his head.

“I need to take a break from all of this,” she CONTINUED.

Not that he wanted to hear it…

“Alone, Octavia?” It was his turn to step closer.

“Alone!” she exclaimed, staring right up at him.

She knew that he knew. At that moment, he understood.

Bellamy took the step back, but his eyes never left hers.

It wasn’t until a momentary showdown of stares…

She saw the visible swallow. “Take Jasper.”

“I’m not taking Jasper.” There was no room for debate on that one.

“Octavia.” It was firm, almost reprimanding. “You do understand that we already had one confrontation with the Grounders already?”

A confrontation that they came out on top of…

“I know, Bellamy,” she assured him slowly.

Would it always be a territorial issue between the two of them? Why couldn’t the two groups get along?

It was sudden emergence of the Ark. It was their SLOW but steady takeover of more and more of the city. It was the fact that they had stepped on the toes of a gang that had been established far longer than they had.

Neither one understood the other. Their crew wasn’t about crime and destruction. They were mainly misfits who came and banded together. It was their common love for the open road and bikes that had sealed the deal.

The Grounders? The Grounders were a little more streetwise. A little rougher around the edges. They seemed to do whatever need be to get what they wanted. That included maybe a little bit more than petty crime.

The two factions would never see eye to eye. Not the way the Grounders hated the Ark. Not that the Arkers were so keen on them either.

Octavia looked her brother over carefully.

“I’m leaving,” she started firmly. “I’m going for a ride. I’m not taking anyone with me- including Jasper. I’m not going to get into any trouble. And I will be back once I have cleared my head.”

She knew he didn’t like any of it. His bottom lip drew up tightly and his teeth gnashed at it.

“Okay, Bellamy?”

“Octavia-“

“Bellamy.” Because he still wanted to complain.

His eyes cut across the room again. It wasn’t until he sighed, until he took in a deep breath and blew it out, that she knew she’d finally won.

“Fine.”

Octavia kept the smile to herself.

“Fine.” She was quick to turn around then, not needing anymore conversation.

“Octavia.”

“What?” She only threw a look over her shoulder.

“Be careful,” he said strongly. “And watch out for any members of the Grounders?”

Her eyes widened on him. “I will.”

This time, he didn’t stop her. This time… she was left to find her exit. This time…

Freedom was in her grasp.

 

****

The road was slick under the wheels. A light mist had covered the pavement within the last hour of so. Not that any of that mattered. The tires were more than capable of handling the elements on the city street.

It was more than just a little breeze hitting her face and whipping her hair behind her. She even liked the chill in air. It felt cleansing. It was exactly what she needed.

The Harley was more than a decade and a half old. Not quite a classic. Just a mature piece of machinery. One that she wouldn’t want to part with anytime soon. No matter what bumps and bruises had come with it or along the way.

The thought put a smile on Octavia’s face. Her hands gripped at the handles even a little tighter.

Bellamy had taught her how to ride. Neither one of them could have known what the implications of loving the sport would do for their lives. But now there wasn’t just the two of them. They were a big family from all walks of life that had come together. And no matter that sometimes she found the urge to just step away and enjoy solitude, she would never want to be without them. Not even- there was a tingle that came from somewhere else besides the rumble of the bike- Jasper.

Octavia could almost close her eyes at the feel of contentment. Instead, she pushed the motorcycle even harder. Even faster. She wasn’t ready to turn back around just yet. Not even as she crossed the invisible lines of safety and danger. Not when she had this feeling coursing through her veins.

 

****

Was it the way she took the winding road? Or was it that she’d put too much stock into a machine when her life was what mattered the most?

Octavia’s hands tightened over the handles as she felt the weight of the motorcycle all leaning towards the right. Jerking at the handles to combat the impending accident, she pressed hard on the breaks. It all resulted in a one-eighty turn, skidding around on the deserted road.

She hadn’t crashed. The relief that flooded through her entire body as she tried to steady herself was unbelievable.

Bellamy would want to kill her if he found out.

The road was bare, but she was still in the middle of it. The one thing that she wanted to do was just hop off and check herself out. The smart thing to do was to get off onto the shoulder of the road.

It was with her common sense that she did just that…

She didn’t like the sounds rumbling from underneath her. Good rider, she was. An expert on the mechanical side of things, she was not.

Octavia slipped off the bike, propping itself up on the kickstand.

It would have to be a quick minute, because…

Her hands came up to her helmet, removing it slowly as she turned around and looked at her surroundings.

If she’d listened to Bellamy. If she had stayed near home, near the rest of the gang.

If. If. If.

Then she wouldn’t have to worry about the singular roar coming up the road that was definitely a motorcycle.

Octavia noticed the darting of her eyes, the quickening of her heart. All at the mere thought of who was about to take the bend of the road… and find her there.

 

****

 

Lincoln should have been wary. Cautious. But… that wasn’t a part of his nature.

The night was still. Now at least. It hadn’t been that long ago before all hell had broken loose. When it had been vital to show what it meant to be a Grounder. To show loyalty to the people who make up the so-called family.

It wasn’t a difficult concept- loyalty. It was more to the point of what needed to be fought for and what was just a pride thing. It was about what rules needed to be inforce to allow them, as a whole, to thrive.

Sometimes… sometimes he wondered… When did things go too far? What would they have to do to consider themselves having had crossed a line into vigilantism and pass the simple term of just a gang of bikers?

Every Grounder wouldn’t have done it. They wouldn’t have seen the lone biker sitting there and just stop to see what the problem was. Nor would they have passed by and then circled back around, the guilt getting the better of them. Lincoln wasn’t every Grounder…

It was only getting darker when he approached the bike, parking just in front of it.

His eyes stayed on him as he removed his helmet.

She… She sat atop the bike, looking on the fidgety side. And he knew why. Instantly.

Every motorcyclist wasn’t a part of a gang. Every rider didn’t live by a code where they band together as one. This rider… She wasn’t a Grounder. No Grounder markings. No one that he knew was out on the outskirts of the city. No.

She did have markings though. The markings on her bike spoke of…

Lincoln sat his helmet down on his seat, only then looking away from the Arker.

They’d had battles too often, the Grounders and the Arkers. But it came on the heels of territory issues and the like. Proud men and women who didn’t like the façade that a bunch of immature boys and girls. At least that’s the way it was sometimes portrayed.

Even under the helmet, she looked far from immature.

She did look ready to scurry. Hands looked poised on the handlebars. Booted foot looked ready to kick off into high gear. Yet, she didn’t go.

Perhaps…

“Did you need any help?” His voice was a soft murmur as he looked first at her.

She didn’t answer right away. It gave him time to look over the bike.

Her hesitation was from the same realization, he was sure. Arker. Grounder. The two didn’t fit together. Not in this type of predicament.

“I think I’m fine.”

Fine. Is that what she said? From underneath the helmet, he thought he’d made out her words.

Lincoln turned his focus onto the road before them. Even on the dampened road, he could make out where she had certainly spun out.

“Are you sure?” he asked, turning back to face her.

The mutter that came next, he was sure, was a curse. And then…

Her hands lifted to either side of her helmet, lifting and revealing…

He was first struck by the fierceness in her face. And then it was the softening. The way her green eyes locked on his. The way her pink lips parted just so. The way the dent in her chin became more prominent when she lifted it towards him. The way her long brown hair, clung to her, somewhat damp by the mist and moisture in the air.

How… how had he never seen her before?

Lincoln felt the way his breath caught in his throat. He noticed himself noticing her.

“It was just… a spinout.”

Her voice was clear now. Throaty. A hint of smokiness to it.

“I’m fine.”

And maybe, now, she wasn’t so nervous. Not about the Arker/Grounder scenario.

“I think I just need to give it a minute.”

Lincoln tore his eyes from hers, looking over at her bike.

Maybe.

But she was probably in the same mind as he: an Arker didn’t need to be on this side of town. Not at this time of night.

“I can give it a look for you, if you’d like,” he told her softly, moving closer towards both her and the bike. “You can… trust me.”

“A Grounder.” It was soft. Not accusatory. Just a statement of fact.

“An Arker.” Lincoln smiled as his hand came up to touch a handlebar.

This time… she smiled back. And those green eyes, wide and beautiful, blinked at him.

“You should get out of here,” he muttered quietly.

Her head tilted slightly. “I know.”

He swallowed. Thickly.

“I can help you.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

His hand moved from the handle and suspended in the air.

“I’m Lincoln. Of the Grounders.”

She took his hand in her own.

And he felt an instant crack of electricity run through him.

“I’m Octavia.” She gave a little shrug. “Of the Ark.”


End file.
